Mirror
by Alydia Rackham
Summary: While still recovering from being poisoned, Lex Luthor visits a fellow billionaire in Gotham City. Season 4 No slash
1. Chapter 1

_I own nothing of Smallville and nothing of Batman Begins._

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Mirror

Usually, Lex Luthor avoided Gotham. It was seedy, dark and violent--reeking of the earmarks of a city infested with Plague. He gazed out through his limousine window at its towering, gray buildings shrouded in smog, his eyes tracing the paths of the elevated train that hung like spiderweb over the winding streets.

"Are you certain you don't wish to take the main road through Gotham, sir?" his chauffer questioned. "It's a good half-hour quicker."

Lex glanced at him, then back out at the foggy downtown.

"No thank you, Herold. I don't feel like being car-jacked this early in the day."

"Yes, sir."

They exited onto a winding road that was quickly surrounded by trees. They rounded a sharp corner and Lex's stomach turned. He felt his face grow cold and he closed his eyes.

"Go a bit slower," he ordered, though his voice was faint.

"Sorry, sir. Are you feeling ill again?"

Lex did not bother to answer. He gradually opened his eyes and tried to keep his gaze fixed on the road in front of the car, through the windshield.

_"Straighten your tie, son. We want to make a good impression."_

_"He won't be looking at _me_. Your business partners never do."_

_"He's not my business partner. Yet."_

Lex brushed at his forehead, trying to banish the memory of that deep, calculating voice--wondering if he needed to readjust his medicine.

The surrounding, leafy woods took on a familiar form, and Lex risked a glance out the side window again, this time to the left.

There it was: the old, private cemetery lined with leaning, moss-covered headstones, surrounded by towering, black-barked oak trees and a stone wall.

"Here we are, sir," his chauffer announced. The limo pulled up a winding road that ascended a hill, and Lex leaned sideways so he could take in the full view through the window. His mouth twisted in a half smile. There it was; the same palatial manor he remembered--except it wasn't. Though these impressive, almost foreboding, towering stone walls, small-paned windows, sharp parapets and elegant stone work appeared to be at least a century old, he noted the blackened stones of the foundation, and the new grass coming up where the old had been scorched as the first mansion burned to the ground.

"It looks the same as always, doesn't it Mr. Luthor?" Herold commented.

"Indeed it does," Luthor nodded, still staring at it. "He's done a fantastic job." It was larger than his own mansion, and built in a more welcoming way, despite its height and grandeur. A person could drive almost to the front door, and could dodge out of rain or snow under a spreading, pillared overhang. The limo stopped outside of this overhang, since there was no precipitation, and Lex opened his own door.

"Will you be needing me anymore, sir?" Herold inquired. Lex shook his head.

"I have my medicine in my coat pocket." He patted the large pocket of his long, black coat. He shut the car door and faced the mansion door. Taking a deep breath and fighting back another wave of nausea, he carefully ascended the stone stairs. Studying the intricate work done around the door, he reached out and pushed the bell.

Sooner than he expected, he heard the latch move, and the thick door swung open. A young man stood there, slightly older than Lex, and taller. He had dark hair, combed back from his face, but one strand fell across his forehead. His features were chiseled and handsome, his jaw was defined, and his bright brown eyes were penetrating without being fierce. He was barefoot, wore long pajama pants, a black t-shirt, and a knee-length green bathrobe. Lex allowed himself to smile. Other than himself, Bruce Wayne was the only other billionaire he knew of who enjoyed opening his own door.

Bruce's heavy eyebrows shot up.

"Lex Luthor!" He glanced down at himself and laughed, then reached around and tied his robe shut. "Sorry, I was expecting my friend Rachel; her family used to work here and we grew up together, so I'm used to being a little less formal around her."

"No problem," Lex assured him. "My arrival is completely unexpected anyway. You'll have to forgive me for being so presumptuous."

"Nah," Bruce waved it away. "Come on in." He stepped aside and Lex entered, gazing at the fantastic arched ceiling, the lovely rugs and the gold-framed paintings on the walls. Bruce strode ahead of him, his bare feet padding against the carpet of the long, broad hallway.

"So what brings you all the way up to Gotham, Lex?"

"Well, first of all," Lex put his hands in his pockets and followed Bruce. "I wanted to see if you had done justice to the old Wayne manor with your rebuild."

Bruce let out a laugh.

"And what do you think?"

"I think it's incredible," Lex confessed. "Looks just the way I remember it."

"Good," Bruce answered. Lex noticed something in his soft undertone, but could not decipher it. He took a breath.

"And second of all, I wanted to address that email you sent me a month or two ago."

Bruce stopped, his hands in the middle of re-tying his sash, and his eyes widened.

"Don't tell me that you drove all the way here because of a wine rack, Lex," Bruce said slowly. Lex put up a hand placatingly.

"Don't worry about it. I was due for a trip up to Gotham anyway and I thought that while I was up here I would stop by."

Bruce glanced at him sideways, and Lex felt the uncomfortable sensation that for the first time in a very long time, his guard was being penetrated. He had forgotten that about Bruce. But, unlike some other people, Bruce decided to let it go. He turned back around and raised his voice.

"Alfred!" He kept walking. "Alfred, we have a guest!"

"Yes, sir?" An old, white-haired English gentleman wearing a suit came out of the kitchen area and stopped next to Bruce.

"Alfred," Bruce gestured to Lex. "You remember--"

"Mr. Lex Luthor!" Alfred exclaimed. He smiled broadly and inclined his head. "Of course, sir--you came here to visit when you were just a lad. I'd recognize you anywhere, though you have grown quite a bit!"

Lex, unused to this kind of talk, chuckled uneasily and extended his hand for Alfred to shake. Bruce just grinned.

"Alfred, could you show Mr. Luthor to my study while I get dressed?"

"Of course, Master Bruce," Alfred nodded. "Follow me, Mr. Luthor."

"Just give me a second, Lex," Bruce held up one finger, then strode to another part of the house. Wordlessly, Lex fell in behind the butler and ascended a flight of wide stairs. When they reached a landing, they continued down a darker corridor and then Alfred opened a door for Lex and stepped out of the way.

"Here you are, sir. If you should need anything, give the bell in the corner a tug."

"Thank you, Alfred," Lex said quietly, stepping into the wooden-floored room, the scent of the hundreds of books surrounding him flooding him with memories.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_"Here you are, sirs." The Butler's voice sounded distant, his words automatic. Lex stepped through the waiting door next to his towering father, prepared to be bored again. He knew he would be forced to sit and listen to an entire afternoon of technical and business talk between two old grown-ups. _

_The library was tall-ceilinged, and all of the walls except one were covered from floor to ceiling with shelves and all kinds of books. The one excepting wall bore a tall fireplace, but no fire was burning. _

_Lex glanced to his left. He almost said something, but words died in his mouth. _

_There stood an impressive desk, carved from beautiful cherry wood, and atop it sat all the necessaries for office work--a stapler, a stack of papers beneath a marble paperweight, a fancy pen and a lamp. _

_But behind it, in a tall, leather swivel-chair, sat a boy. _

_He was a bit older than Lex, but the chair still dwarfed him. He wore a suit, and his hair was parted to the side and combed. He looked pale, the curve of his eyebrows showing buried worry, and his auburn eyes moved quickly from Lex's father to Lex, to the butler and back again. "Master Bruce, this is Lionel Luthor and his son, Lex," the butler announced. Lionel stopped. _

_"Wait. There must be some misunderstanding," Lionel stammered. "I wanted to meet the owner of Wayne enterprises."_

_"I own Wayne enterprises," the boy stated, meeting Lionel's gaze squarely. However, the worry line remained. "My parents died." _

_"I...Yes, I did hear about that, and am terribly sorry," Lionel recovered. Lex knew full well that he was lying about being sorry. But he went on. "I had just surmised that the heir apparent was a little...older."_

_Bruce did not answer. However, his gaze flickered over once to meet Lex's. _

_"Were you expecting to make a business transaction, Mr. Luthor?" the butler asked, stepping over to stand by the young Wayne's side. _

_"Well, yes, as a matter of fact," Lionel clasped his rough hands behind him._

_"Then, sir, I would recommend that you go down to Wayne Tower, in downtown Gotham, and meet with a Mr. Earle," the butler advised. "He is acting custodian of Wayne Enterprises until Mr. Bruce reaches eighteen years of age."_

_"Well, then, we won't take up any more of your time, Mr. Wayne," Lionel said, unsuccessfully trying to mask his patronizing tone. Again, Bruce did not say anything. Lionel turned to leave._

_"Come on, Lex."_

_"Daaad," Lex groaned. "I don't want to sit in on _another _meeting!"_

_"Lex," A dangerous tone entered Lionel's voice, and his eyes flashed._

_"If you don't mind, Mr. Luthor, Master Bruce hasn't had any playmates for several months now," the butler cut in. "If you wouldn't mind sparing Mr. Lex, I'm certain the boys could amuse each other while you are conducting your business." _

_Lionel glared at the butler, and at young Bruce, then down at Lex--and suddenly his hard face cleared. He actually smiled._

_"Excellent idea," he commended. "As long as we're not imposing, Lex would be glad to stay here and play, wouldn't you, Lex?"_

_Lex wasn't sure, but as he glanced between Bruce and his father, he knew he would definitely rather keep company with someone his own age. So he nodded. _

_"Good," Lionel slapped his small son's back and headed toward the door. "Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I'll be back to pick Lex up later this evening." Lionel left the study, and the door shut behind him. The butler cleared his throat and stepped toward the door as well. _

_"Would you like some milk and cookies, young masters?"_

_Lex blinked, not knowing what to say. _

_"Yes, please, Alfred," Bruce answered. "Thank you."_

_ Alfred smiled._

_"Rightoh. Be right back." He left as well. Lex's brow furrowed. He turned to Bruce._

_"You say please and thank you to your butler," he observed. Bruce met his eyes._

_"Yeah, I do," he replied. "Don't you?"_

_Lex considered for a moment, then shrugged._

_"I never thought about it." _

_Bruce hopped down from his chair and came around the desk._

_"Alfred is my friend," he said, as if that explained something. The two boys stood for a moment, awkwardly, then Bruce's eyes fell on a beautiful chess set on a coffee table in the corner. _

_"Do you know how to play chess?" he asked. Lex straightened, then nodded. A hint of a smile lit Bruce's face._

_"Cool. You can teach me." _

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"You can turn the lights on, Lex. I paid the bill."

Lex turned and saw Bruce standing in the doorway, dressed now, wearing a blue dress shirt and black pants, his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah," Lex acknowledged. "I was just thinking."

"Hm," Bruce nodded, casting his gaze around the library. "Well, I suppose this is the room for it."

Lex chuckled. Bruce turned to him.

"Want to see the wine rack I need replaced?"

"Sure."

The two men left the library and trailed downstairs.

"I called Rachel and asked her to come another time," Bruce said. Lex's brow furrowed.

"You didn't have to do that."

"It's all right. She just wanted to see the progress in the gardens. I told her you were here, and she said she'd come back tomorrow."

Lex kept his thoughts on Rachel's opinion of him to himself. The two walked through the kitchen and to the door of the cellar. The descending stairs were wooden, but Lex noticed that they did not squeak. He said so.

"New wood, Lex," Bruce reminded him as he turned on the light.

Lex rolled his eyes at himself.

"Of course," he muttered. They hit the meticulous stone floor and strode across the empty cellar where a space had been built into the wall, eight feet wide and nine feet tall.

"This was where my father's wine cabinet used to be," Bruce gestured with one hand. "It was beautiful mahogany, with curved glass and claw feet."

"I know the type," Lex nodded, envisioning it. "They were made in England, I think, in the seventeen hundreds."

"This one was Russian," Bruce said grimly.

Lex glanced at him in surprise.

"Russian? Well, that certainly makes it--"

"Difficult to find?" Bruce offered. He sighed. "Yeah, I'm beginning to think it was a piece of furniture from the Czar's palace."

Lex chuckled.

"Actually, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Neither would I. Which is why I emailed you." Bruce faced him. "I know you have an talent for tracking down rare antiquities."

Lex canted his head.

"That's my hobby, I suppose." He studied Bruce. "I don't suppose you have any wine to go with it once you get it?"

Bruce shrugged.

"If I do, it would just be for decoration, or for guests. I don't drink much."

Lex's eyes narrowed.

"I thought you were inebriated the night this mansion burned."

Bruce suddenly looked uncomfortable.

"It's all right," Lex said. "I'm not trying to get you in trouble or anything. We all have our...indulgences."

Bruce's jaw tightened.

"Well, you're taking steps though, right?" Lex pursued. "Isn't that the reason you don't drink now?"

Bruce stared at the space where his cabinet had been.

"No," he murmured. He took a breath. "But I promised that I'd rebuild this house the way it was, brick for brick. And I had a Russian cabinet here."

"I understand," Lex said, though he was still pondering Bruce's reaction. He realized something: whatever had happened that night, it had not happened because Bruce had been drunk. The press was wrong. Bruce wasn't like that. So what had happened?

Bruce's eyebrows raised and he changed the subject.

"So...what do you think?"

Lex smiled and gave a short nod.

"I'll get to work on it," he assured him.

"Good," Bruce crossed his arms over his broad chest and tilted his head back. "Now--why did you _really _come here, Lex?" He lowered his head and gave him a level stare. "Besides asking me about my drinking habits."

Lex tried to appear innocent, but when Bruce just waited, he sighed and turned from him.

"All right, I did need to ask you something," he confessed. "Has my father contacted you at all?"

Bruce's brows came together.

"You mean from prison?" he asked.

"I mean from anywhere," Lex replied.

"Why?" Bruce demanded in a low voice. Lex stood still and met his gaze.

"Could you just tell me, Wayne?"

"No, he hasn't," Bruce answered. "I don't speak to that man."

Lex felt the knot in his chest loosen a bit, but a twinge of nausea traveled up his gut.

"What makes you think he would contact me?" Bruce pressed. Lex took a deep breath, then decided to stop debating with himself.

"The night he was taken into the prison, I was poisoned with my own brandy."

Bruce stared at him.

"Poisoned?" he repeated, darkly astonished. Lex nodded, his mouth tight.

"Yes. My own father poisoned me. I have to take frequent injections and I'm constantly nauseated--not to mention being lucky to be alive." Lex barked out a laugh. "I guess that shouldn't surprise me; his own _son _threw him in prison. It's all one in the end, right?"

"No," Bruce growled, fire behind his eyes and anger deep in his utterances. "He threw himself in prison. Anyone who chose to do the things he did deserves to be there."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Please, please review!

VVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_Lex strolled through the noisy, bustling Metropolis airport, his knee-length black coat fluttering around him, killing time before they boarded his flight en route to Paris. Sometimes he enjoyed taking regular civilian transport rather than a private jet--it felt more human. _

_He suddenly caught sight of a young man in a similar coat, but it was light brown. The young man sat waiting at a gate. His dark hair hung down in his face, and he was leaning his elbows on his knees, his head low. Lex still recognized him. _

_He stopped in front of him and let the young man notice his shiny shoes. The youth looked up and met his eyes. _

_"Bruce Wayne," Lex smiled. "This is about the last place I'd expect to see you."_

_"Hello, Mr. Luthor," Bruce gave him a halfhearted smile. "I think I could say the same of you." He waved to the empty chair next to him. "Can I offer you an uncomfortable airport seat?"_

_Lex sat down and settled into the same position, though he kept his head up and laced his fingers together. _

_"I thought you were going to school at Princeton," Lex commented. _

_"I was," Bruce sighed. "I'm headed home right now; this is just a weird layover on the way to Gotham." _

_Lex's brow furrowed._

_"Are you on break?"_

_Bruce shook his head. Lex noticed how dark he was under his eyes, and how the usual brightness in his eye had faded. He also had a deep line between his eyebrows that Lex hadn't seen before. _

_"No. The uh..." Bruce cleared his throat and swallowed. "The man who killed my parents is petitioning for early release." _

_Lex was silent for a long moment._

_"The man who..." Lex trailed off. "I thought your parents died in a car accident."_

_Bruce looked sharply at him._

_"Who told you that?"_

_"My father," Lex answered, then shook his head. "But it wouldn't be the first time he lied to me just because he felt like it."_

_Bruce said nothing for a while staring ahead of him at the wall across the walkway. Then, finally, he spoke shortly._

_"They were shot by a mugger outside of the opera when I was little."_

_Lex took a breath and looked away from Bruce, his chest tightening as he processed that._

_"I would say I'm sorry, Bruce," Lex stated. "But when people said that to me after my mother died, I knew they didn't have a clue what I was going through, and it didn't make me feel any better."_

_Bruce turned and met Lex's eyes. He nodded once._

_"Thanks."_

_Neither of them said anything for a few minutes._

_"So," Lex ventured. "Are you...going to a hearing or...?"_

_Bruce shifted and cleared his throat again._

_"Yeah. Just to...well, to speak for my parents. Somebody has to."_

_"I agree," Lex acknowledged. "Then what are you going to do?"_

_Bruce stared ahead and his jaw tightened. _

_"I don't know." _

_"First call for flight 603 to Paris, France, boarding now at Gate 52."_

_Lex sat up at the sound of the voice over the speakers. _

_"That's my plane," he sighed, and stood up. Bruce raised up as well, though wearily. Lex tried to smile. _

_"Well, good luck, Mr. Wayne."_

_"Thank you." That half-hearted smile was back. On impulse, Lex reached inside his coat and pulled out a business card and a pen._

_"Listen, Bruce," he said as he held the card in his hand and scrawled on the back. "Here's my personal email address. If you ever need anything," He held it out. "Don't hesitate to ask." _

_Bruce blinked, and stared at the card. Then the smile grew more genuine. _

_"Thanks, Lex." He took it and put it in his own coat pocket. "Have a good trip." _

VVVVVVVVVVVVV

Something was wrong. Though Bruce offered to show him the restored grounds, his expression had darkened, sharpened, and he wasn't looking around. His gaze was distant, and Lex watched him carefully, as if his host were a brooding lion.

Clouds covered a good portion of the sky, but it was warm, and the grounds around Wayne Manor were lush and green and smelled refreshing. Their soles scraped on the drive as they walked, hands in pockets again, around the downhill side of the building. Lex could see the masterful work that had been done, but though Bruce walked beside him, the master of the house was not being a very good tour guide. Finally, Lex stopped walking.

"Was that not a legitimate question?" he demanded.

"What?" Bruce halted, not fully turning to him. "Whether or not I spoke to your father?"

"Yes! You're the Prince of Gotham, one of the few who can honestly say that you're equal, maybe even superior, to the Luthors," Lex reminded him, gesturing in frustration. "If my father wanted to wrest control of Luthor Corp out of my hands, you're one of the only people who could--"

Bruce's eyes blazed.

"You think _I _would do something like help a man murder his son?"

Lex stood there for half a second, then spoke, his voice low.

"Every man has his price."

Bruce stared at him.

"Is that what you think?" His voice was deadly.

Lex settled back, remaining calm, never breaking eye contact.

"In my experience, that's what I _know_."

"No," Bruce stepped forward, his nose wrinkling into a snarl, his voice quiet. "Even if he broke my knees and stole everything I own, I would _never _make deals with a man like Lionel Luthor." His eyes blackened, a frightening, powerful storm building beneath. He raised his eyebrows. "And I would like to watch him even threaten any of those things."

He swept past Lex and started down the hill. Lex felt sick again, and it was as if he had lost his footing. Quickly, he turned to face his host.

"What happened to you, Wayne?" he called.

Bruce stopped but did not face him.

"I know you disappeared for five or six years--and I'm almost sure that you didn't burn down your own house," Lex jabbed. "What happened to you?"

Bruce merely stood.

"Something had to," Lex continued, taking two steps toward him. "You're not the same man I knew before. I don't know of anyone who has met my father that could say something like that with such confidence."

Bruce turned very slowly, and his gaze cut like razors.

"Are you afraid of him, Lex?" he asked in a low tone. "Or are you afraid of yourself?"

Knife-like coldness pierced through Lex's chest as Bruce turned back and continued to stride down into the grove of ancient trees. Unable to do anything else, Lex followed him.

VVVVVVVVVVV

_Lex stared out the window of his study, leaning back in his chair, a finger draped over his lips. It was a beautiful day outside, and for some reason he could not concentrate. In fact, he had not been able to concentrate for about two days. Not after the purchase he had made._

_A knock came at his door, and he bid them enter. His secretary opened the door and spoke._

_"A Mr. Bruce Wayne here to see you, sir."_

_Lex stood up so fast he sent his chair rolling backward. He could do nothing but stare as the tall, rugged, years-older-since-he-saw-him-last man in a suit came striding through the door, smiling and extending his hand. _

_"Bruce," Lex managed, grasping the hand that very obviously belonged to a living person. "You're...you're not--"_

_"Dead?" Bruce grinned. "I know," he said wryly. "And it's been fun trying to persuade people."_

_Lex suddenly broke into a smile and laughed. _

_"Well for crying out loud--why were all of your shares liquidated and your company made public--"_

_"That's what I came to talk to you about," Bruce sobered. _

_"Have a seat," Lex offered, sitting down behind his desk and closing his laptop. Bruce settled into an armchair across from him. Lex studied him a moment. He was different; there was now something subtly animal-like about him, and he possessed a deep, steely strength he had not borne before._

_"I want to buy the shares back that you just bought," Bruce stated._

_Lex's eyebrows went up._

_"Really? Why?"_

_"I'm attempting to own my family's company. Makes sense, right?" he held out his hands. Lex chuckled._

_"Of course." _

_"And I also don't like the direction Wayne Enterprises has been taking while I've been gone."_

_Lex's eyes narrowed. _

_"What do you mean?"_

_Bruce thought a moment._

_"They're becoming a little too...militant."_

_"Ah." _

_"Somehow I don't think that specializing in illegal weapons of mass destruction was really my father's intent," Bruce's mouth twisted. Lex glanced down._

_"Actually, you probably have _my_ father to thank for some of that."_

_Bruce's gaze sharpened. _

_"What?"_

_Lex leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk._

_"Do you remember the day my father brought me to your house and then went to talk to Mr. Earle?"_

_Bruce nodded._

_"They've been in regular contact, discussing various experiments and weapons. My dad has been pushing Mr. Earle in this direction--either that or has just found a fellow _

_collaborator." _

_Bruce settled back into his chair, gazing out the window, and Lex suddenly got an uneasy feeling, as if he was in the presence of a coiled cobra. _

_"I know my father has bought some of your shares," Lex added. "And I doubt he'll be willing to sell them." Lex paused. "But you can have all of mine back."_

_Bruce blinked, and the cloud lifted from his face. _

_"Lex, that's too generous of you. I can't ask--"_

_"I'm not offering. I'm telling you," Lex held up a hand. "They belong to you--they declared you dead and sold your shares, but you're clearly _not _dead, and so they're rightfully yours."_

_Bruce gave him a small but genuine smile._

_"Thanks, Lex. It's refreshing to see there are still people in the world like you."_

_"Maybe you've just been in Gotham too long," Lex joked. _

_"Oh, believe me; I haven't been there long enough."_

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Lex slowed his steps as he rounded one of the monstrous oaks and found himself in the Wayne cemetery. Cautiously, he stepped between the leaning gravestones, the air silent, heavy and still, gazing at Bruce Wayne's back.

Bruce stood before a large headstone, his arms crossed over his chest. Wordlessly, Lex approached and stood to his right. Glancing down, he read the names inscribed on the marble.

_Thomas and Martha Wayne_

_Beloved Parents _

"I can't tell you everything, Lex," Bruce murmured, his eyes narrowing as he studied his parents' grave. "But I can tell you what I almost did." He took a deep breath. "I came back for that proceeding; and they let the man go who murdered my parents. I had a gun. I was going to kill him. I had been waiting for years to kill him."

Lex stared at him, trying to digest that.

"But you didn't," Lex inserted, fighting to keep the hope from invading his tone. Bruce frowned.

"No, I didn't."

"Why?" Lex asked. And suddenly, he found himself desperately wishing that Bruce would say something like _"Because that would have been wrong" _or _"The need for revenge was replaced by a desire for justice._" But Bruce did not speak for a very long time. Finally, Bruce just lifted his chin.

"Someone else killed him first."

Lex swallowed, then locked his gaze on the marble in front of him again. His footing was slipping again--he felt as if he was standing on quicksand. He went cold.

"After that," Bruce went on. "I became so..._afraid _of what I had almost done--of what I still could do--that I had to get away. I had to get away from all the people I cared about. I was afraid of what I could do to them." He glanced up, gazing at the leafy bows overhead. "It took several years, but I finally learned something." He turned to Lex squarely. "Even with everything I've been through, I have no excuse. I know the difference between right and wrong. So instead of being afraid of the darkness inside me, I had to fight the darkness, both inside myself and in others. I had to make a conscious decision to do what was right." Bruce turned back to the grave. "That's why I had to stay in Gotham. And stop being afraid."

Lex let out a deep breath. His foundation rose up beneath him and he regained his balance. A bird trilled in the distance. They stood in silence for a few minutes, and then Bruce threw him a small smile that warmed the icy moment, showing Lex that there was no permanent damage. Lex returned the expression.

In a moment, Lex glanced down at his watch, then spoke.

"I've got to go, Bruce," he told him. "I have some business in town and I have to take care of my treatment."

"Okay," Bruce acknowledged. "I'll walk you to your car."

As they strolled back up the hill, Lex caught a few clandestine studies of Bruce's face, noting two small scars there that he had never seen before. He knew for certain that Bruce was hiding a great deal--but so was Lex. He sensed that both men realized this, but were comfortable with it, as long as they were honest in what they did say.

They arrived in the drive way, where Harold was waiting in Lex's limousine. Lex approached the vehicle, and Bruce trailed back.

"Tell me something, Lex," Bruce suddenly said. Lex turned.

"Yes?"

"Why did you really come here?"

Now, Lex just wanted to chuckle. There were very few people on earth that could read him like Bruce could. He ought to just resign himself to that.

"To tell you the truth, Wayne," Lex faced him. "You're my mirror. You always have

been." Lex shrugged. "And I suppose, with everything that's happened lately...I just needed to see if I could still recognize any of you in myself."

Bruce looked briefly surprised.

"And what's the verdict?"

Lex watched him for a moment.

"Don't give up on me yet," he almost asked.

Bruce grinned genuinely.

"I'm not in the business of giving up on people."

Lex smiled again, not showing his slight relief, then got in his car.

VVVVVVVVVVV

Bruce Wayne,his arms folded across his chest, watched Lex's limo drive down the hill and vanish around the bend. His brow creased and he glanced down at the paving.

"Is everything all right, Master Wayne?"

Bruce did not turn at the sound of Alfred's voice.

"Yes, Alfred," he replied. He heard Alfred descend the front steps and come up to stand beside him.

"How is Mr. Luthor?"

Bruce stared at the place where his car could last be seen.

"He worries me," he confessed quietly.

"He does, sir?"

Bruce nodded slowly.

"I think we need to check up on him more often."

"Why, sir?"

Bruce took a deep breath.

"Well, otherwise someone is going to have to come out of the woodwork in Metropolis." He glanced at Alfred gravely. "My monster can't split himself between Metropolis and Gotham."

Alfred's eyes widened.

"You really think it will come to that, sir?"

Bruce's brow tightened, he looked back at the road, and did not answer.

THE END


End file.
